Not Myself
by VociferousVixenofDarkness
Summary: It's late at night, and the rain is coming. Why does my window feel so magnetic?
1. Not Myself

**I don't own the Teen Titans.**

_And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything._  
~William Shakespeare

* * *

**_Not Myself_**

I'm standing here.  
Alone in my room.  
Naked.  
In darkness.  
In ambient warmth.

It's late, and I know I'm tired, yet I don't feel like crawling in bed.  
Rather, I stand.  
Still.  
Erect.  
Running my hands along my body in slow, flowing movements.  
I stare out the window.  
The black of the ocean and the dark grey of the sky greet my eyes.

Taking slow, deliberate steps, I inch toward the window.  
It's open, and the soft breeze floods in.  
A coolness runs over my body as it enters my room.  
Yet it doesn't make it far before falling to the floor and my feet.  
I take a deep breath as I bring my face close to the screen, and close my eyes.  
I inhale.  
I smell.  
I feel.  
That all too calming scent of a coming rain, mixed with earth and salty air.  
My droopy eyes suddenly feel lifted and light.  
They open.

I continue to run my hands along my body, feeling the warmth travel with them.  
The radiant heat of my arms wards the cool air away from blowing against my skin.  
My mind drifts to the need to sleep, and I avert my attention to my room.  
I step back.  
The warmth of my room quickly engulfs my body, dissipating the coolness left from the draft.  
My eyes feel heavy again.  
My mind; wandering.  
I step back towards the window, and press my lips against the screen.

I inhale yet again, and again I awaken from the heavy warmth of slumber.  
This time, I let my violet eyes bore deep into the distant sea.  
Straining to see the full detail in the lowest of light on this dark summer's night.

I dare not bother covering my bare form as I continue to feel the cool air wrap its way around my radiant warmth.  
No one is watching...  
No one is awake.  
There is silence.  
Pure, deep silence of all that is man.  
Nothing but nature bombards my eardrums.  
Soft, subtle sounds most would never take heed of are now loud and clear.  
The insects are buzzing, the waves are crashing, and the few leaves on this island are rustling in the light breeze.  
I am alone, yet surrounded by living.  
What once is a contrasting palette of colors is now a barren landscape of blacks.  
Just light and shadow.  
Simple forms.  
Playing in the moonlight.

I inhale once more, wondering why this is all so soothing.  
The picture is a low contrast, dark monochrome with a perpetual soundtrack.  
The air smells like air.  
And although my warm hands are in constant motion, I should be cold.  
Yet despite the simplicity, it is all too comforting, and my mind wants to wander.

I should be sleeping.  
Dreaming with my eyes closed.  
Tucked safely beneath warm blankets.

Instead I'm standing at my window.  
Dreaming as I stare into the distance.  
Awake.  
Cold.  
Fragile.

Lonely.

.

Human.

* * *

~VVoD


	2. Not Myself: Dreams

_It is only when we silent the blaring sounds of our daily existence that we can finally hear the whispers of truth that life reveals to us, as it stands knocking on the doorsteps of our hearts._ ~K.T. Jong

* * *

_**Not Myself : Two Worlds of Dreams**_

As I stare out the window, a cascade of thoughts runs through my mind.  
I do not know what they are.  
I do not care.  
Bits and fragments are picked up as they pass, but it's like fish going through a net too big to catch them.  
None can be held or processed.

I've taken to resting my arms along the windowsill.  
My body leaning forward.  
My head held in the corner of the window's trim and screen.  
I start to hear the birds awaken.  
Their chirps signaling a coming sun.  
My eyes have been wandering, but take focus to the sky in the distance.  
Sure enough, the sky is lightening.  
The shadows are fading.  
The grayscale is slowly being saturated with colors once more.

How long have I been standing here?  
The obvious is hours, yet it seems so short.  
My body has become accustomed to the cold.  
My breathing matched to the subtle wind.  
My mind caught between a barren dreamland of nothingness, and the weak consciousness of self.

There are red blotches in the sky.  
No.  
Pinks and oranges.  
Whites and Yellows.  
The clouds have been rolling in, and the unrisen sun plays with their undersides.  
The smell of rain is stronger now, though I don't know how I know.  
Perhaps the moisture in the air and earthen smell have grown.

Shouldn't I be in bed?  
There are so few hours left for me to sleep.  
But I feel so awake.  
Alive.  
Pure.  
This is so much better than my morning cup of tea.

The sounds are growing.  
The wind is picking up.  
The waves are rougher, and the colors are becoming more saturated by the minute.  
Everything is rising from its slumber that I so dreamily watched over.  
But what greets them is much more dismal than what currently greets my eyes.  
The rain is coming, and the shadows are taking over the sky.  
The night does not want to end, but the daylight will make it try.

The race is on between clouds and sun, and I will forgo the cold and tiredness that will ultimately claim me to see who will win.  
It's a slow spectator sport, but it has me entertained.  
The shadows are spreading as far as the eye can see, and the light Is intensifying beyond the sea.  
The minutes pass as I watch in silence.  
The cold growing colder.  
Yet still I stand, entranced by this war of nature.  
It seems as if the sun is waiting.  
Stuck.  
Straining.  
The clouds have almost won, and the sky has grown much darker.  
The dreary dark I've grown accustomed to, now raiding the earth like it's enemy.  
But just as it looks like darkness has taken the day, a green flash sparkles my eyes.  
It's amazing what Earth has waiting for patient lives.

A few minutes more, and the orange begins to fade.  
Rising behind the clouds that seal us in for the coming day.  
I continue to stare in wonderment as the rain begins to fall.  
Splashing against the screen, and misting my arms and face.  
I take one last breath of the deep cool air, and regrettably close my window.  
As I step back, listening to the pitter patter, the warmth of my room slaps my cool skin back to reality.

I stare at my bed and pause.  
Should I do it?  
Should I bother falling asleep?  
Or should I bask in this soothingly calm feeling?

I know I'll be tired, but I don't want this to end.  
It feels so good.  
So right.  
So… mirthfully sad.

To think.  
Simple nature can make me happy.  
At peace.  
Yet the living cannot.

I'm lonely, but feel fine.  
So fully sublime.  
Like the sun rising above the clouds, my brightness grows trine.  
Yet around others, I feel trapped.  
Held back.  
Caught up in the social as a gothic reject.

My heart sinks at this thought.  
It's not who I am!  
And that's all that should count.  
This curse.  
These emotions.  
I wish I could feel.  
But I have, and I did far before this long spiel.

So with that thought, I retire.  
To a soft cozy bed.  
Wrapped beneath warm blankets, and rest my weary head.  
It may not be long, but I know I will sleep.  
Trapped in a separate dreamland beneath warm, cozy sheets.  
My mind will run rampant with these new found facts.  
Yet I'll be in control, and using all of my tact.  
For now that I feel, I must learn much, much more.  
On how to control all the facets within Nevermore.

Dreaming while you're awake is like fishing in a pond.  
You never know what you'll get or whose side you'll be on.  
But dreaming whilst asleep, you have the controls.  
Crafting your imagination from the characters to their roles.  
One open, one closed.  
One cold, and one warm.  
It's too bad I'll have to hear about this 'nasty old storm'.

* * *

Well technically since the Titans are in the west, and she's looking out to sea, it's impossible for her to see a sunrise. Either a) deal with it, or b) pretend that in the DC universe, the earth spins the other way 'round.

That is all.

~VVoD


End file.
